Science & Industry - Corporate Warfare
by Ghost3
Summary: An attack on a facility begins to reveals a secret that leads to a silent war between two of the biggest companies in the world, AFD and MCL. Can 3 unlikely heroes stop this war before it threatens our very future? Visit: www.planethalflifecom/si
1. Prologue

**SCIENCE AND INDUSTRY: CORPORATE WARFARE**

_"Every major horror of history was committed in the name of an altruistic motive._"

-_Ayn Rand, Novelist and Philosopher_

Prologue 

The ambulance screeched down the damp street and made a sharp turn at the corner, almost losing balance and tipping over. The driver, thinking better of the slippery roads, slowed the vehicle, but only slightly. The bright red and blue of his sirens lit up the dark night of downtown Manhattan. The few cars that were on the road quickly pulled to the side, creating an empty column before the driver that seemed to lead to his final destination. Two more blocks and he turned a final corner. Suddenly huge bellows of dark black smoke appeared ascending into the sky from the horizon. As he grew closer, part of a building became visible inside the column of smoke; his mouth fell open in the pure awe of the scene.

At the site of the spectacle people looked on as the fire leapt up into the night, lighting the sides of steel girders and of broken concrete, illuminating the darkness with a fiery orange. The bright blue and red of the law enforcement vehicles added to the array of lights, the mixture making the shadows of the destruction dance in peculiar ways. Smoke, the smell of burning of fuel, of gunfire and of explosives, filled the air with a repulsive odor and climbed into the heavens. The sirens of the police and fire fighter vehicles echoed through the darkness, silencing the yells of the brave men and women who desperately searched for survivors. An assembly of on-lookers had already begun to form a ring around the devastation, pointing and staring in trepidation at the great flames that climbed high into the sky. Soon after the ring of spectators had formed a swarm of news vans appeared from all directions. Cameras were set up everywhere, from every possible angle, recording each second of the horror that had unfolded that night. Overhead helicopters flashed their lights onto the on-lookers below, their pale faces made bright for brief moments. And alone, in an alley, a man stared at the scene in silence.

            For the people in the crowds and for those who watched it from the news broadcasts the destruction was over. For them the war that had raged here this night had ended, lasting only a few long moments. But for this man, standing alone in the alley, the battle had lasted much longer. For this man, it was only the beginning.

The man in the alley stood watching the flames a moment longer. Slowly he turned away from it, covering his eyes. The heat and stench had become too unbearable. Everything the man had worked for rose with the ashes into the sky above. The rage within grew more and more. As he walked further into the alley he turned suddenly and kicked a trash can high into the air, the various contents within spilling upon the concrete of the alley. He banged his fists against the wall and slid to his knees, tears streaming down from his eyes. He screamed out in pain of his loss, and begged God none of it had happened. He sat back against the alley wall and let his head fall into his hands.

The man shook his head and stood up slowly. Placing his hand on the wall of the alley he stumbled slowly away from the lights into the darkness of the alley. In his mind the revelations of the past few days and weeks were repeated in full. His mind dove into the past, dove back into everything that had led him to this point, back to the very beginning, hoping to make sense of everything that had happened that night.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

There was a sudden jolt as the limousine hit a bump in the road. Vanessa hit her head slightly on the window, not enough to be noticed by her boss sitting across from her, but enough to wake her. She blinked, and for a moment she didn't know where she was. The feeling quickly passed, however, as she watched her boss Mr. Urban looking over some files. He looked up from his papers for a second then returned to what he was reading. She took a quick glance at her watch and saw that it was only six forty-five in the morning. She'd only been sleeping for a half hour, but it would be another forty-five minutes until they reached Mr. Urban's office at the company's headquarters. She began to rub her eyes when her boss spoke up suddenly.

"Did you have a nice nap, Ms. Chambers?" he asked in a low, sturdy tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Vanessa said as she straightened her posture and pushed her hair back into place. Her boss was the type who expected only the best from his fellow employees, more so from himself. Sleeping during work, even if they weren't actually within the office complex itself, was a sin in his eyes. And the behavior of his secretary would most certainly be reflection onto him, at least in his mind. 

Mr. Jonathan Urban was an old man of average build and average height. He wasn't really old, just older than Vanessa was, somewhere in his late forties. A gray steak on the side of his jet-black hair was beginning to become more noticeable. He had never married; the only love in his life, it seemed, was his job. He was usually a very confident and professional businessman. 

Today, however, his broad shoulders slumped in the dark gray business suit. He was under a lot a stress; she could see that. This tragedy was partially his responsibility, although she didn't know how he could of stopped it. It was so sudden. But that wouldn't matter. He is, after all, the head of security for the largest computing and robotics corporation in the United States, Midland Carbide Laboratories. Almost everyone owned a piece of MCL hardware, even if they didn't know it. The company produced everything from television sets to calculators and even simple house hold appliances like toaster ovens. Not to mention it had made major advances in robotics, which won it worldwide recognition, especially in Japan. The courts have been trying for years to stop them from growing, saying they were a monopoly. But the company's high-priced lawyers and their "fancy" tactics were enough to keep the company from suffering major losses.

Vanessa focused herself again and tried to explain her behavior to her boss. She opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come out. She stumbled for a second and was finally able to say something.

"It's just that… sir I must apologize, I've…" Vanessa had more trouble getting the words out than she thought she would. She sat there for a moment not able to finish her thought. The incident that happened the previous day had hit her hard. It hit everyone hard, actually. She didn't know if she would ever get over it. _So many lives lost, and for what? I knew some of them; I had met them at company picnics, seen them playing with their families_. She thought. _Who could do such a horrible thing?_

"It's okay, Vanessa." Mr. Urban said cutting off her thoughts. He was looking at her now, staring at her with his dull brown eyes. "What happened yesterday has hurt us all. I don't know if any of us will ever overcome what has happened. It was a terrible loss. A terrible loss indeed…" Mr. Urban trailed off for a minute, just staring out the window. Vanessa wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come; she could just stare in despair at her boss. 

_He lost so many of his coworkers, so many of his friends. He trained some of those men. And now they're gone, just like that_. 

He shook his head and once again turned to face Vanessa. "If you will, Ms. Chambers, read me the company's report on yesterday's incident." She took out the police investigation reports and some of the company's own papers on the incident.

Vanessa stumbled with the papers for a moment. She felt a knot beginning to form in her stomach; what she was about to read would tell her all the details, sparing nothing. She found the company's preliminary report on the disaster. She browsed for a second and found the information Mr. Urban needed. She felt sick having to read it out loud.

"'The six unidentified men entered the Asbury Park Office Building at four forty-five P.M., Eastern Time, on Tuesday July fourteenth, nineteen ninety-eight. An unidentified van had entered the lot and stopped in front of the entranceway. Six men in masks exited the car and proceeded to enter the lobby.'" Vanessa cleared her throat; trying to hold back the tears that she felt were coming. She continued to read. "'The six entered the lobby and, before passing through the metal detector, removed weapons from under their coats. After… after killing the two guards at the metal detector, three of the six assailants went after those trying to escape in the lobby. Two security officers and six researchers were killed. Two others went into the break room, killing eleven more security personnel, injuring two others, and killing the janitor. The last of the six went after the administrator, a Mr. Blackstone, who was in his office. Fortunately a guard on duty was able to evacuate the administrator, but was shot in the process. He is currently at a nearby hospital, and his condition was upgraded to stable this morning. Seventeen more of security personnel were killed trying to counter the attack. A total of thirty-nine men and women were slaughtered. The facility had a security staff of forty-one individuals; thirty-two were killed in the attack. The other one hundred nineteen employees were fortunate enough to escape unharmed. Video surveillance appears to show each of them being shot several times by our security force, yet seemed unharmed by the barrage of bullets. The police reports that we received indicate that the body armor they had worn did not stop all of the shots they received, which suggested to authorities that they may have been on a drug of some kind. An autopsy will be preformed later today. Authorities are also pondering the motive for such an attack; no warning was given, no ransom asked, and no group has taken responsibility for the act.'"

Vanessa stared at the writing for a moment. She thanked God she wasn't the one that would have to review the security tapes. She took a breath and tried to make the sick feeling in her stomach disappear.

"Is that all?" Mr. Urban asked. Vanessa hadn't realized how long she had paused. She cleared her throat and still tried to hold back the tears that she felt were coming.

"No sir. The report goes on to say that after the initial attack, which… had only lasted ten… ten minutes, the six returned to the lobby and, " _Oh God_, she thought to herself. It was bad enough that these monsters did what they did. But what followed made her feel even worse. 

"'The six then returned to the lobby at four fifty-six p.m. and gathered in a circle around the security camera. Five of the six immediately… immediately took their weapons and… and shot themselves. However, one removed his mask and stared… into the camera. Then, he took his own weapon and shot himself as well.'"

Mr. Urban stared at her. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. For a second, through her coming tears, she saw her boss the weakest he had ever been. The moment passed quickly, however, and he immediately sat back into his seat.

The company had been under attack for a long time now. Or, at least, it seemed to be that way. She had been for the corporation for seven years now, and had been Mr. Urban's private secretary for three. In her time as her bosses secretary there had been a total of thirty-six "attacks" on company property. It was mostly minor damage, though some high-level research had been compromised, there was never any loss of life, at least until now. It was the most horrible attack on a privately owned business in years. Thirty-nine were now dead, and, at the moment, for no reason whatsoever. Whoever was doing this needed to be stop, before any more travesties could be done.

"Excuse me, sir, for stuttering. Just this whole thing has been very…" She began to apologize.

"I understand, Ms. Chambers. It is fine," he said, interrupting her. "We've all been hurt by this loss. The government promised us they will help in anyway possible to stop this from reoccurring, and maybe find some reasons as to why all of this had to happen. Whoever was responsible for this will be brought to justice, I will see to it myself if I must." Mr. Urban said gently to her. "There is nothing we can do now, only wait." He stared at her for a moment. Vanessa began to feel better. She wiped the tears from her eyes as subtly as she could.

"Now then, what time is today's board meeting?" he asked her after a moment's pause. The entire board of directors would be meeting at MCL headquarters to discuss the ramifications of the incident; Mr. Midland himself would be present. Vanessa searched her thoughts for a moment then answered.

"It will be at three forty this afternoon, sir."

"Very good," he said in a more upbeat tone. "Oh, by the way Ms. Chambers, may I ask who was the security officer who rescued the administrator?" he asked. Vanessa fumbled through her papers for a moment and found the officer's file. She found the file on the survivor and took a moment to look at his picture. His hair was brown, cut short, and combed to one side. He had thin eyebrows that hung firmly over his pale blue eyes. His mouth was a thin line against a thin face. He had every feature of someone who belonged in the military rather than on some company's security force. _Not so bad looking either, _Vanessa couldn't help thinking. Vanessa placed the photo back into the folder and took out the man's records and began to read. 

"A Mr. Charles Daniel Miller. Level three security officer, graduate of New York university with a double major in computer sciences and law, and a double minor in mathematics and ethics. Age twenty-nine, born on July seventh, nineteen seventy-one. He has been with the company for six years now. Family includes his father, Mark Miller, who died of a heart attack in 1991; and his mother, Jillian Miller, who passed away a year ago last month. He has no other siblings. He is currently unmarried." 

"How is his performance record?" Mr. Urban asked.

"Very good, sir," she said after looking over the information for a moment. "He is an excellent officer with high recommendations from his supervisors. He was responsible for stopping a hacker from stealing classified information off of our mainframe in Boston and stopped the abduction of one of our research associates. He also helped evacuate the building when those protestors threw that firebomb into the third floor office space. Mr. Miller was transferred to the research facility in Asbury Park, New Jersey in nineteen ninety-five and was given a level three-access card. He's been employee of the month seven times during his career. He continues to show superb performance in his work. Unfortunately he was shot during the attack; however, he was able to get the administrator to safety unharmed. He will be spending the next three weeks in the hospital, with pay of course."

Mr. Urban sat silently for a moment contemplating something. "Impressive indeed." Mr. Urban seemed to say it more to himself than to Vanessa. He sat and thought for a moment then said, "I want that man to be given a level five-access card and transferred to our research facility in upstate New York."

His words shocked Vanessa. No one had ever been promoted to such a high level so quickly. "Sir, don't you think that is a little premature, I mean he hasn't been with us for very long and…"

"That is not up to you to decide, Ms. Chambers. We lost several high-ranking officers in that attack and we need to replace them. Mr. Miller has shown he is both a competent and reliable. His lack of a family means he is probably more dedicated to his work than anything else. We need men like that in our upper ranks. I wish to have him upgraded immediately. Am I clear?" Mr. Urban asked harshly.

"Yes, sir. I will have him contacted as soon as possible with the news." Vanessa coolly responded. She should know better than to question Mr. Urban's authority, but she still felt it wasn't a good idea to let someone as new as Mr. Miller access to some of the company's "secrets." But her opinion didn't matter in these situations. She began to look for a pen when she found a small package addressed to Mr. Urban that had arrived the previous night. She had never had the chance to give it to him the previous day. He had left as soon as he hard about the attack to see the facility himself and hadn't returned until later that evening. She had completely forgotten about the package. _As good a time as any..._

"Oh, excuse me sir, but this package arrived for you yesterday after you left." She handed Mr. Urban his package and he proceeded to open it. She returned to looking for her pen and planner when, after a moment, her boss spoke up suddenly.

"Vanessa, when did this package arrive?"

"Excuse me sir?" She was startled. Mr. Urban had never, in all her years working for him, called her by her first name. She immediately looked up from her papers. His eyes were wide, and sweat began to form on his forehead. He was beginning to look pale. Vanessa stared at him for a minute searching for the problem. _He looks… he looks sick? No, he looks more like he's… scared?_

"I said, when… when did this arrive?" His eyes were still fixed upon the paper, a sort of fear creeping into them.

"The package arrived yesterday about half past the hour and arrived at your office at about ten after five, a few moments after you had left for New Jersey. Is there…"

"Why did it take so long to reach my office?" he said cutting her off.

"The package had no return address and security took the usual precautionary measures to make sure it wasn't a bomb or some other… Sir, is there something wrong?" she asked nervously. The knot in her stomach was beginning to form again; she had never seen Mr. Urban like this. He continued to gaze at the letter he held in his hand; she couldn't see what was written on it or if there was anything else inside the package. Mr. Urban put the letter back into the package, closing it, and pressed the intercom button to the limousine driver.

"Robert, how long before we arrive at my office?" he said through the intercom.

"Just about thirty more minutes, sir." The driver's voice crackled back.

"Thank you, Robert." Mr. Urban put the package next to him and removed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. He rubbed his forehead and nose. He held the handkerchief for a moment longer, staring up at the roof of the limousine.

"Ms. Chambers, what time is the meeting with the board of directors?" he asked still staring at the roof of the limousine.

"Three forty this afternoon, sir. Mr. Urban, please, is there something wrong?"

Mr. Urban continued to stare a moment longer, then he put the handkerchief back into his jacket pocket and turned to face Vanessa.

"It is nothing, Ms. Chambers, nothing for you to be concerned of. I do need you do me another favor, however. I want you to contact a man, a Dr. Tenchi Tsunado Nakano, and have him driven in and brought to my office before the meeting. He works at the Albany facility in the robotics division. All the information should be on your computer. Contact him immediately. Have I made myself clear?" he said. His tone added to Vanessa's worries; he was never so harsh to her. _What was on that letter?_ She wondered.__

"Yes sir, I will have him picked up immediately. Is there anything else you would like me to do?" she asked cautiously.

"I wish to remain undisturbed until today's meeting. No one but Mr. Midland or Dr. Nakano is allowed to see me. That will be all for now."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and remember to contact that security guard. I want him transferred immediately. Have him placed in one of our corporate apartment buildings and give any incentives that may be necessary to do so."

" I will contact him as soon as possible, sir."

"Thank you, Ms. Chambers." Mr. Urban said. He removed several papers from his briefcase and proceeded to work.

_What just happened?_ Vanessa wasn't sure of the last few moments; it was all so surreal to her. The stress of the event must have really gotten to her. She returned to her work, but she had trouble concentrating. She wish she could comfort him, but she wasn't even sure what had scared him, let alone what to say to him. Whatever it was, she'd just have to hope it was nothing too serious. He already had enough on his plate to worry about.

The limousine moved deeper into Manhattan and soon the corporate headquarters loomed into view. The first fifteen stories were like any other normal building in Manhattan; however after the fifteenth floor the building became two separate towers, each another eighty stories high. They were connected at the eighty-fifth floor by two long walkways dubbed the "sky tunnels." The two towers were a dark black; the corporate logo hung like a billboard on both towers facing outwards over the city and over the ocean towards new and foreign markets. They were horrid yet magnificent, a reflection on the corporation that had brought it into being.

Mr. Urban and Vanessa left the car and entered the building's lobby. An air of sadness hung over the lobby like a think fog; everyone was upset at the event. They took the elevator to Mr. Urban's office on the eighty-seventh floor. Mr. Urban entered his office and locked the door behind him without so much as a "good day." Vanessa stared at the door for a moment. Then she sat at her desk. _Jonathan.._.  She picked up the receiver and made a call to the switchboard.

"This is Miss Vanessa Chambers calling on the behalf of Mr. Jonathan Urban. Please put me through to Mercy Hospital in Asbury Park, New Jersey."

Charlie stared at the clock on the wall. It was four thirty-three; he had seventeen minutes before he'd have to get back to his desk on the third floor. Charlie looked into the empty coffee mug he held. He stared at the corporate logo on the mug's side. "_MCL, Making Life Easier for You and Your Family_." _I wonder who sits down and writes these things anyway? Hmm, maybe I'll look it up sometime._ The corporate logo was a light sky blue hexagon. At each vertex a short bold line stuck out. The symbol reminded him of a snowflake for some reason. He remember from training the six lines were supposed to stand for each of the branches that Midland Carbide Laboratories had been involved with, all coming together at the center in unity. Time, though, showed that the company had abandoned some of its research areas. Today it dealt mostly with computer hardware and robotics. 

"Who ate all the doughnuts?" someone's voice questioned, interrupting Charlie's thoughts. Charlie looked up to see one of the research assistants standing near the coffee machine and water cooler. The other security officers looked up as well. The break room was emptier than it usually was, even this late in the afternoon. Rich and Bob, two of the level-five security officers were there. Then there were the level-three guys, Greg, Max, John, and himself, who all sat at the same table. There were about six other guys there as well, probably from either level-two or level-one security. He hadn't gotten a chance to formally meet many of them, though he knew a few by their last names from security briefings. They all sat loosely together at the round, four seat tables, doing their heart's desire with their one-hour lunch break.

"Hey, if you don't get here early enough don't expect to get anything." A voice rose up from the back in a rather angry tone. It was Calhoun, one of the level-two officers. The man always seemed disgruntled for some reason; he'd be leaving soon, however. He was lucky enough to snatch up a job at some new government facility in the middle-of-nowhere that paid twice as much as it was worth, all hush-hush of course.

"Yes, well, have you've been able to get the beverage machine working again?" the scientist questioned somewhat embarrassingly. Calhoun looked even more ticked off than before.

"What do you think we are?" Calhoun began to say angrily as he began to sit up. "Why don't I just take that coffee and shove it straight up your-"

"Calhoun, why don't you relax?" A voice came from behind. An older man in janitorial clothing stood behind Calhoun holding a box of tools. It was Marcus, the buildings head janitor. He walked past the helpless scientist and towards the vending machines. "I'll have the machines repaired within the hour, Dr. Lawrence. As for doughnuts, ask the kitchen staff, I'm sure they have some left somewhere."

            The research assistant nodded his head and left the room. Marcus went to work on the vending machines; Calhoun sat back into his chair again and the other security officers continued with their meals.

            John shook his head and sighed, "You'd think these science guys be able to fix the machines themselves. Helpless like children."

            "Can program robots to put together high-powered electronics and stuff but can't get figure out how to get more doughnuts if their lives depended on it," Max added. Max and John chuckled and Charlie smiled. Greg was concentrating too much on eating his sandwich to pay attention to anything else.

Charlie stared at them for a moment and then stood up, his friends around the table staring at him as he went. He threw away his lunch and placed the mug and tray in their respected places. He walked toward the coat rack for his jacket when one of the guys from his table spoke up.

            "Charlie, where you goin' man? I hope it ain't back to your post already; you still got, like, twenty minutes." John said.

            "Why not, I'm done with my lunch." Charlie answered with a grin. He grabbed his jacket and put it on, fixing his security badge into the correct position.

            "Hey, whatever. It's your loss." Max replied shaking his head. Charlie walked out the door and allowed it to close back into place. They were all good guys. Charlie would get together with them every Saturday night and play Poker. Max was "political analyst" of their little group, offering the daily report on how much the government was screwing up or how he would run things. He was Charlie's height, though a little more corpulent than he himself was. He had light blonde hair, buzzed-cut, and green eyes. Greg was the comedian of the group, always looking to get a few laughs, mostly at the cost of one of Max's theories. He was also the shortest and slimmest of them, yet he ate almost anything in sight. Charlie once had that type of metabolism, but lost it in his teen years; Greg was luckier in that respect. He had dark brown hair like Charlie's, light brown eyes, and lightly tanned skin. John was the biggest of the group. He stood six foot nine, two hundred ten pounds (almost entirely muscle), with dark black skin and dark brown eyes, but he was one of the kindest fellows Charlie ever had the pleasure of meeting. He had even gone out of his way to show Charlie how things worked around the facility when he first arrived. He was also the only one of them who was married; his wife worked as the head security officer at their sister laboratory two towns over. A frightful short woman with a mean temper; she was tough, loud, but kind, when you were on her good size. A perfect fit for the lovable bear known as John (Charlie would always have a laugh seeing a huge man like John give in to the demands of someone he had to look down at). Greg and were Max were your typical bachelor types, always going out on the town looking for fun. They'd invite Charlie sometimes, but he'd often decline. He was always more of a loner.

            "It's not like anything ever happens around here, anyways." Max called out from behind. Charlie ignored the remark and continued down the hall to the elevator. He entered and pressed the button for the third floor and watched as the elevator's doors closed.

            _Why did I decide to do this for the rest of my life?_ Charlie asked himself. It was the same question he asked himself everyday. And, everyday, there came no reply. No reply that was helpful anyway.

            After college he was desperate to find a way to quickly pay off his college debts. He was still unsure what he'd want to do with the rest of his life and was willing to do almost anything for money. Then one day he caught site of an ad in the newspaper. It offered great pay, excellent benefits, and more excitement than a desk job. It was a dream job at the time; security officer at one of the largest electronic companies in the world, Midland Carbide Laboratories. At first it was everything he could have wanted; he got the chance to talk to some of the greatest minds in the world. He knew before the magazines about future products that no one else would know about for years. He even received discounts on almost any piece of electronics out there. Stopping that hacker in Boston boosted his career further, and stopping some maniac from kidnapping one of the administrators there only helped more so. He was happy to be transferred back to his hometown in New Jersey. But since then things had gotten… dull. What had supposed to be a three-year job to pay off his debts became five, which then became six, and was slowly becoming a career. And then the death of his mother the previous year…

            Charlie pushed the thoughts aside quickly as the elevator's doors opened. He was on duty now; there was no time to have his mind elsewhere. He walked down the hall and sat at his desk in front of the primary research laboratories. Inside the silhouettes of people walking around appeared through the tinted glass doors.

He signed in at the desk and began watching the third-floor security monitors. A group of scientists were working a diagnosis program on their software; rumor was it that they had been working on a new artificial intelligence program for the robotics division. Of course only the level-five officers were authorized to know about that, but loose lips will tell. Charlie looked at his watch. It was four forty-two; he had just over three more hours before he could go back home.

Suddenly a strange noise seemed to come from the distance. It was a sudden and rapid burst of sound that lasted for a few seconds and stopped, then began again. Charlie stood up quickly trying to discern what the sound was and where it was coming from. _A jackhammer maybe? Sounds like it's coming from the lobby area. But that can't be, there was no construction scheduled for today._

That was when a new sound rose up. Screaming. Charlie ran from behind his desk and down the hall that would lead to balcony overlooking the lobby. As he ran down the hall the screams became louder and the other sound was more recognizable. _Gunshots!_ The rapid beating sound continued to resonate through the air. As he neared the door to the lobby two men in lab coats ran out from the door and down the hall past him. Charlie ignored them, too fixed on wanting to see what was happening to just ask them. As he continued to run an alarm suddenly sounded throughout the building, the glaring sounds of the siren being muted by more gunfire. He burst through the door and ran to the railing overlooking the lobby below.

What he saw made his stomach turn and his gut wrench. Two men lay injured, maybe even dead, in pools of blood near the building's entrance. And before the set of bodies stood five men dressed in trench coats and wearing black ski masks. In their arms they held a large weapons, smoke slowly pouring from the barrel. _Tommy Guns?_ Charlie couldn't tell for sure but they looked just like the weapons from old mob movies. Charlie watched as two of the five men reloaded the drums on their guns while the other three turned to the left. _What are they-?_

Charlie watched in horror as the assailants opened fire on eight men. Six men in lab coats fell down immediately, their white coats turning crimson red. Two security officers had pulled out their firearms, but neither got more than three shots off. They were motionless on the ground within seconds. Charlie felt for his own firearm. _My desk!_ He had left it there when he had gone down to the cafeteria for lunch and had forgotten to take it with him. Charlie took one last look as the group split. He turned around and ran back through the door and back down the hallway to the security desk. He took the keys from his pants pocket and used them to unlock the top draw of the desk. He removed the company's standard issue Colt Defender from atop the papers. He pushed papers aside and removed four of the gun's clips. Each held seven .45 ACP caliber rounds. _I only hope they aren't wearing any type of body armor. Anything over Level II Kevlar won't give me much of a chance of even stopping _one_ of them!_ Charlie tried to think of what procedures were to be followed in a case like this. The alarm was sounded and most were probably being evacuated at the moment. He was the only security officer on the third floor at the moment unless someone else left lunch early. A kick glance at the security terminal showed the area to be empty, except for a single office where a man sat at a desk looking around nervously. _Mr. Blackstone, administrator for the building. He's following procedure by waiting for an authorized security agent to escort him. Okay then, I have to call the main security office on the first floor_.__

The sirens had stopped wailing but the flickering emergency lights remained. There was a dead silence now, the gunshots no longer audible. Charlie loaded a clip into his gun, placed the other three into his jacket pockets, and picked up the security phone. He placed the gun between his holster and pressed the button for the security office. He waited as the call went through; there was a click as someone picked up.

"This is level-three officer Charles Miller requesting our current status and course of action." Charlie said calmly. There was a momentary pause then Rich's voice replied over the line.

"Charlie? Thank God. All hell just broke out and we don't what to do. They are shooting up the first floor like nobody's business. They caught most of us off guard in the cafeteria and they cleaned just about everyone out in the locker room." _Max, Greg, John, everyone was still there. I just hope they weren't..._ He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He had to concentrate. 

"We can't get to the heavy stuff," Rich said coolly, interrupting his thoughts. Charlie could hear gunshots becoming louder on the other side of the line. "Three of them got us pinned down back here. I don't know what type of armor they have but we sure as hell aren't hurting them. The other two are in the lobby keeping watch, but we lost track of the sixth one after he left the group."

"There was a sixth?" Charlie said. He hadn't seen a sixth one.

"Yeah, he went straight for the stairs we think. One of the cameras was destroyed in the crossfire so we can't be certain. Keep an eye out and be careful. The police won't be here for another ten minutes and we have to evacuate fast. Check every room you can and get everyone out of here! Be careful and don't die on me man!" The phone clicked off before Charlie could say anything. He placed the receiver back into place and stood for a moment to collect his thoughts.

Six men, all of them heavily armed, wearing an unknown type of armor. Two are in the lobby; three are on the same floor holding us down in operations. One is currently nowhere to be seen. Most of this floor is empty except for the labs and some of the offices. If everyone is following correct procedures then the research staff has already evacuated down the fire escape to the back parking lot with everyone else. Administration and upper-level workers should be locked in their offices awaiting an escort. I'll cut through the labs into the office area and get the administrator Mr. Blackstone. Should be easy enough, the police will be here soon.

Charlie opened the desk draw again and removed his key card. Just as he turned to go something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned quickly back at one of the security screens. There was a broad shouldered man moving carefully up the stairwell toward the third floor doorway. In his arms was a large weapon pointed out in front of him. _The sixth terrorist! _Charlie's mind screamed.__

Even if he got the drop on him he only had a pistol. Charlie jumped back and half-slid under the security desk. He held the gun close to him, ready to fire. He listened attentively as the echoing boom of heavy boots on concrete grew louder. There was a pause. His muscles tensed and he held the pistol tighter. _Who would ever have thought this would happen._ It almost seemed like a dream to Charlie. He was practically staring death in the face…

There was a click and the creaking sound of a door opening. The heavy footsteps walked were coming closer. A second later the footsteps stopped moving. He pushed back into the gap and under the desktop. A chill went down his spine and he used all strength to stop himself from breathing. There a soft rustling of papers being moved, and, quite suddenly, part of a barrel appeared over the desktop. A cold began to pour from Charlie's body, and his hands clenched the gun closer still.

"I'm in front of the research laboratories." A deep voice suddenly announced. _He must be talking to the others via a radio._ Charlie couldn't hear if there was a reply. "I'm heading over to the administrator's office… Good, continue to hold them down. We meet in ten minutes in the lobby regardless of what happens... Over and out."

_Mr. Blackstone! So that's his target. All this for one man can't be for one man alone can it?_ There were footsteps again. Charlie relaxed his body for a second, and then in a single motion slid out from under the desk on his back and pointed his gun towards the direction the footsteps came from. He caught sight of the man's leg just as he turned the corner and vanished from view. Charlie took out his key card and ran to the laboratory door. _I have to get Mr. Blackstone out of here right away. I can cut through the labs and hopefully get there before that… that _monster_ does. Then we can take the service elevator to the garage and get out to the back of the building._ There was a beep, followed by the doors opening. Charlie went into an all out sprint as he ran past the huge computer consoles that lined the labs.

As far as he could tell the research scientists had already escaped to the back of the building where the second parking lot was located. The building itself was along a highway; the back parking lot was where everyone was supposed to go in case of an emergency. The police would probably start barricading the highway soon. _That is, if they ever got here._ Charlie had respect for the authorities, but in a situation like this there isn't much room for patience.

In what seemed like an eternity of running through a jungle of beeping computer consoles and flashing screens, Charlie reached a set of double doors. He pulled the handle and pushed the door open. He was in a small break room. There were few vending machines, a coffee machine, and a soda machine. Several cups were on the floor and there was spilled coffee and a half eaten sandwich on the hard marble floor. At the other end of the room was a door that would lead out into the hall. Charlie ran to it and swiped his I.D. Card at the reader.

There was a pause. Time itself felt as if it had slowed to a crawl, the beep of verification took an eternity. The light next to the door turned green and there was a click. As he opened the door he was reminded of his training at the security course. His instructor had been new himself, only teaching for two years. The head of security, Mr. Urban, had once been in charge of training the New Jersey branch he had applied to. The recent terrorist attacks on the company caused an immense amount of work he had to attend and prevented him from continuing his training programs. The new trainer wasn't as strict or professional in his ways. Weapon training was cut back on since, according to the new instructor, "you'd probably never even have to pick the gun up." Charlie chuckled harshly to himself. _It's funny how life works out._

  The door swung open to the right. He turned quickly to the left, pointing his gun down the empty corridor. He quickly swung around to look to the right side of the hall; it was empty too. The stress of the situation had started to get to him. He was feeling fatigued and wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep hid concentration. He pushed the feelings aside, for now all that mattered was getting the administrator out of the building. The time he had spent trying to memorize the floor had done him well; he knew every way in or out of the area. The administrator's office was down the hall and only a few doors to his left. He ran at full pace down the hall, looking at the signs on each door, reading them in his mind: _Rest Rooms; Mr. Gallo, Robotics Division; Mr. Blackstone, Research and Development._ Charlie stopped short and almost slipped on the marble floor.

He ran up to the door and jiggled the handle. The knob wouldn't move; he knocked three times on the hard wood door. In a quick and steady voice Charlie yelled, "Mr. Blackstone, this is security officer Charles Miller. I have come to escort you from the building." There was a click and the door opened a crack. He could see a dark brown eye and part of a face look at him through the crack. After a pause no longer than a second the man pulled the door open wider. A man in a blue suit and a red and black striped tie stood in front of him. He had a thin face with a thin line for a mouth. He had pale skin and short black hair. There were bags under his dark charcoal eyes. He must have been worried to the point of fatigue.

"Mr. Miller, what is-s going on," the man said. He had a lisp that made him hiss at the "s" and sound a snake. "I tried to call the s-security s-station when the alarms-s went off but there was no answer," he continued.

"Sir we have come under attack by unknown assailants. They have many of the executive guard held up on the first floor. There objective isn't quite clear at the moment; however, I have reasons to believe you are their target," Charlie responded coolly. The man's eyes grew wide and his thin mouth opened a little. He was filled with horror and looked as if he would collapse. Charlie then realized he had almost forgotten about the terrorist that would soon come upon them. They would have to move fast; Charlie decided against telling him of the last assailant. It would be best for them both if he didn't know. The administrator began to open his mouth to speak but Charlie cut him off, "Sir, we must remain calm. The police are just outside now. Protocol states that we should use the staircase at the end of the hall and-"

"Actually Mr. Miller," the administrator said quite suddenly, "there is-s fire exit that can be accessed from the next room over." He pointed to a door a few steps down the hall and began to walk toward, Charlie right behind him. "The door is-s locked, but we could break it down. Protocol or not, I think it best that we use that as an exit. We don't know what these _maniacs-s_ could be planning and, frankly, the faster we get out of here the better" Charlie nodded. It wasn't part of the protocol but the "snake-man" was right; the quicker the better.

Charlie jiggled the door's knob and found it was indeed locked. He kicked hard three times but still nothing. He looked at Mr. Blackstone and he nodded. The two men stepped to the wall opposite the door ready to run. "On three," Charlie said. "One, two, three!" The two men jumped forward and threw their shoulders into the doorway. There was a loud crack and the door flew open. The administrator stumbled into the room a little but quickly corrected his position and turned to him. Charlie looked past him from the open doorway towards the windows in the back of the small office. Part of the fire escape platform was visible. There were flashes of blue and red light pouring into the office. The police had arrived. 

"Alright", Charlie began, "go out onto the fire escape and proceed down. I will be right behind you."

"Yes, and thank you Mr. Miller," Mr. Blackstone replied. Beads of sweat continued to form on his forehead. He seemed as calm as Charlie could have suspected. Had he been panicking it might have been difficult to get him to leave. Charlie knew not everyone in the world could be on the verge of facing death and be as calm as he thought he was.

"Alright, sir. Go-" Charlie was cut off by a sound that sent a chill done his spine. Through the pumping blood in his ears he hadn't heard it before. The footsteps. The heavy banging of large boots on concrete that grew louder every second that slowly passed. A rush of adrenaline coursed through Charlie's veins as he turned his head towards the sound. Before he could completely turn his head, he caught sight of a boot coming from around the corner of the hall. Time grew to a crawl as the muzzle of the rifle came into view. Soon the terrorist stood fully before him from across the hall. Through the holes in his mask, his dark eyes pierced Charlie's soul. He was a symbol of death, and he was looking straight at Charlie. The man raised the rifle and aimed high. The explosion of sound echoed through the otherwise empty halls. Metal flew from the rifle and crashed into the plaster walls. In a single motion Charlie pushed into the surprised administrator and fell backwards pushing the broken door closed as he fell. But as the he was falling back there came suddenly a sharp pain in his abdomen. His vision blurred a moment from the pain. The door crashed closed and the administrator stumbled backwards screaming. Time began to speed up again. Charlie looked down and saw the crimson red liquid oozing from his stomach. He had been shot. His left hand clutched the wound tightly. His right hand still held the pistol. The world seemed to grow bright suddenly. Soon he was kneeling on the floor yelling at the administrator to use the fire escape. The door shook as death banged at it. Charlie's memory grew unclear, as if it had been deprived of all the events that had happened. He stood near the window of the office, watching the man in the blue suit race down the stairs. The red and blue lights flashed all around the outlying parking lot. Red and blue reflected from the white coats of the research scientists. Suddenly the door shook rapidly with the force of millions of pieces of metal crashing into it. Charlie jumped to his side and watched as bullets tore through the door and hit into the wall. The door came crashing to the floor and a creature walked through. There was a flash and suddenly death was standing before him. The black trench coat and black mask made Charlie want to scream in horror, but he pain in his side stopped him. He just stared deeply into the emotionless black eyes. Death stared back at him, piercing him like a spear. Suddenly death turned his back to Charlie. He looked out the window, red and blue flashing from the dark mask. He put his hand to his ear. Charlie's eyelids began to fall as a cold voice broke the silence.

 "Mission failed. Target is out of reach. Meet back at the lobby." Death turned again and walked through the doorway of the office. Charlie dropped the weapon that was still clutched in his right hand. He lifted his eyelids and brought hid left hand up in front of his face. He watched the crimson red liquid drip down his hand and onto his arm. His vision began to blur again and he closed his eyes.

_I'm dying. I'm not going to make it. Oh God…._ His mind screamed to him. Suddenly the world turned a bright white. He was enveloped in light and seemed to feel nothing at all.

_Am I dead?_ Charlie couldn't focus himself. Something was wrong; he had no feeling or perception of anything. There were voices all around him. A women's voice was barely audible to him. He sat up quickly. It was then that there was a pain in his abdomen; a pain that brought him quickly down to reality. His eyes focused and the light dimmed. Before him was a white tiled wall. He was covered in light white sheets. Above him a bright light shined down upon him. A strange tube came out of his left arm. For a long moment he sat bewildered at the revelation. He was not dead. He was lying in a hospital.

The women's voice called his name. He turned his head and saw a women dressed in white with dark black hair standing next to him. _Am I dreaming? Is this just the end of some nightmare?_

"How are you feeling, Mr. Miller?" she asked him. She smiled, her bright blue eyes conveying sympathy. It took Charlie a moment to think of the response.

"Ye- Yes. I'm fine. Thank you." His mouth was dry and the world seemed to spin around him.

"I'm glad to hear that," she replied. Charlie saw her identity tag pinned to the collar of her shirt. The name "Amanda" was printed across the tag. "You've been through a lot. You took a bullet in the abdomen, poor thing," she continued. It was then he realized he had been dreaming. But the truth was that this dream had occurred. It was as real as the metal thread that closed up the wound in his stomach. His mind had replayed it for him in horrifying detail. And he couldn't shake the feeling that it wouldn't be the last time he would relive it.

"Don't worry. There was no permanent damage. It was more of a flesh wound than anything. It was dug deep though. You were in surgery for the last ten hours." The nurse continued. Her voice was soothing, comforting. It reminded Charlie of his mother. How she use to comfort him when he was hurt. "You'll be here for the next three weeks. I'm sure you'll fine."

It was then that it hit him. _What of the others? Of those who were held back in the security office on the first floor? What about those who were in the cafeteria?_

"Where are the others? The other… the other security officers?" He asked. His voice sounded harsh and raspy, partly from thirst and partly because he feared what her response would be. Her smile faded and it was then that he knew the answer. _Oh God. Max, Greg, John, Rich, all of them!_ _They're dead…_

"There is a visitor for you who will tell you all about it. I'll send him in." Charlie stared blankly at her as she left the room. He had no real family anymore, and he did not have many friends outside work either. _Unless someone from the facility did survive!_

A few moments later a tall man in a blue suit walked in holding a briefcase. It was the man from his dream. The administrator. Charlie's brain felt like it was throbbing in his skull. The effects of the morphine that was being administered to him made everything seem surreal. The man sat down in a seat across from the bed. Charlie sat up as best he could.

"I would like to thank you, Mr. Miller. You saved my life. Hadn't been for you I might have," he began. He stopped talking for a moment and the two stared at each other. Charlie wanted to say something, but his mouth was too dry. The man continued in his emotionless professional voice, "We lost many good workers today. I am afraid not everyone made it. Those who stood against the attack were slaughtered. Of the forty-one individuals on the security force, only nine survived, including yourself. Five of those individuals were not in the office that day. Two of the other three were lower level officers who escaped uninjured, Barney Calhoun and Jacob Dunphy. The other survivor was a man from level-three I believe you know, Mr. Jonathan Reid. Mr. Reid suffered several bullet wounds, but is in stable condition, to say the least. Please give him my regards when he awakens." He pointed towards the curtain next to Charlie's bed. Charlie just stared at the man. He thought he should feel sad, that he should be grieving. But for the moment he felt nothing. _John is still alive, behind that curtain and wounded, but still alive. But Greg, Max…_

"We are short on personnel now, Mr. Miller. There aren't many men available who can take on responsibilities required for upper-level security clearance." Something in the man's voice changed. Charlie looked at him closely.

"That is why I am here, Mr. Miller. My superiors have thought it best to offer you a much more prestigious position."

"Go on." They were the first words Charlie had been able to say since the man walked in.

"You are being offered a level-five security clearance position. Mr. Urban himself requested it, I received the call from his personal secretary only a short while ago. If you accept, you shall be transferred to the Robotics Laboratory in Manhattan. A new residence will be provided as well."

Level-five. That was the highest level anyone could reach in the company. All this was still a dream to him. He still waited for the moment he would wake up soaked in cold sweat from this nightmare. As the time slowly passed, that moment grew more unlikely.

"What about… the terrorists-s? What of the rest of the facility?" Charlie asked.

"Perhaps this is not the best time to discuss that subject. You'll know soon enough." The man responded emotionlessly. "You do not have to make a decision right now Mr. Miller. You've been through a lot and if you require time to think it shall be given to you."

Charlie thought for a moment

"Yes. I… I accept." The words came out almost mechanically, as if he had no choice.

"I s-suggest you get s-some more rest before finalizing any-"

"There is nothing left for me here now. I'll do it."

The man smiled suspiciously and stood. He wiped off something from his blue sports coat and turned to leave.

"Wisely done, Mr. Miller," he said from the doorway. He smiled again. "I shall s-see you up ahead," Mr. Blackstone said as he left into the corridor. It sounded as if it were a joke, or perhaps an indication that they might cross paths again in their respected careers. Charlie slumped down into the hospital bed.

"Oh God…" The moan came suddenly from behind the curtain. Charlie moved his head over and looked at the curtain. The dark figure of a large man could be seen through the thin sheets. "John…" Charlie whispered. There was a silence. Slowly the sound of soft crying could be heard from the curtain. "Oh, Charlie, is that you? Thank the Lord. Oh God, Charlie, the blood. The blood, Charlie. It was horrible. Their bodies, they just fell. Those eyes, staring at me. Those black, black eyes. Oh God, Charlie…" There was another silence. Charlie called out John's name again but there came no answer. He must have fallen back asleep.

This was it, the end of one life and the beginning of another. The realization was slowly forming within him. He had nothing left here. Everything he used to know died back in that office. They died in the cold black stare of death as he had stood over him in that office. Died in those cold black eyes. 

Tears fell from Charlie's eyes as they slowly closed. The world was enveloped in darkness again as he fell into sleep, all the time feeling as if the black eyes were somehow watching him.

The only light in the dark room came from the scores of monitors and buttons that lined the walls and consoles. The air was stuffy and warm, and the unnatural buzz of computer equipment filled the gloomy silence. The middle-aged man took a sip from his mug. His coffee had become cold, not something he was particularly fond of, especially after a long day. _But then again_ _I'm not doing this for my comfort, _he kept telling himself. The main screen was hung on the northern wall of the room. The picture currently on the screen switched to a picture of the six "terrorists" just a moment before they took their lives. The middle-aged man crossed his arms and stared carefully at the picture.

"How was the group's performance, doctor?" the middle-aged man asked in his rugged voice. The pale little man in a lab coat turned away from his work console to face the man. The red glow of the computer screen made the doctor's eyes glow an unnatural purple.

"Excellent for their first run, sir," the doctor answered as he checked over the screen. The purple eyes moved quickly over the statistics on the screen.

"What was their success rate in completing their mission objectives?" The man took another sip of his cold coffee. _Sugar, definitely needs some sugar._

"Well, collateral damage to MCL was high. It's gonna cost them a few to get that place patched up again. By the end of the engagement the complex's systems were running at only sixteen percent. Of the security personal that were engaged, ninety percent were taken out. Units One, Two, Three were able to clear out the security offices and destroy the main computer grid. Units Four and Five completed their sweep of the second floor in record time. However, and this is unfortunate, but Unit Six failed to complete his main objective. In fact, Unit Six's performance has me a little concerned."

The middle-aged man rubbed his chin. _Damn, I need to shave later._ "Go on doctor, what happened that concerns you?"

"Well, see here…" The doctor typed something at his console and the main screen flickered to another image. The side of the New Jersey complex appeared; at the foot of the building police officers and fire fighters swarmed forward to a man in a business suit descending the fire escape.

"This is the target as he made his way down the fire escape." On the screen a bright red circle appeared around the man in the business suit. On one of the smaller screens the image was magnified and enhanced to clearly show the target's countenance.

"And if we look here," the doctor continued. He pressed some more keys and the image of one of the building's windows appeared magnified on another small screen. The image sharpened and the brightness was increased. In the window a man in a mask holding a weapon could be seen.

"Here is Unit Six. He had a clear shot of the target yet did not take it. Instead he aborted his mission. Also, the single security officer that the unit encountered was not killed, only wounded."

The middle-aged man shook his head. _Not everything can be perfect the first time, I guess. At least for now._

"And then when the target arrived at the lobby…" Some more keys were pressed. The image on the main screen switched again and a security video began to play. The six terrorists stood in a circle in the lobby. The six men turned their weapons around to the side of their temples. Without a second's delay the triggers were pulled and the bodies fell limp. However the last man hesitated for a moment. His free arm came up to his forehead clutching it like he had a headache. The man removed his mask and wavered for a second. Suddenly he grinned, the gun in his hands pushed harder against his temple, and a second later his body fell with the others.

The middle-aged man grunted. "Wonderful. Just wonderful." _Next time I bring my own little canteen. Damn cold coffee._ "What are the chances that MCL or the police could…"

"Very slim, sir, I assure you," the doctor interrupted. "Once the bodies have been 'recovered' we can do more in-depth analysis of what the problem could have been."

"Fine then. We can leave that little bit out of the status report. I'll report the rest of the unit's behavior to conditioning. Now what are we doing about the cover-up?"

The doctor stretched his arms and rubbed his purple eyes. "Clean-up is preparing for the recovery of the units. That is when they plan on leaving the necessary materials to link the attack to another group."

"Hah, who's it going to be this time? Phoenix?"

"No, I think they decided to use the Blood Knife group. They've been quiet as of late and they tend to be extreme as is, so they're the perfect choice in this case."

"Ah, its all good. As long as we're not connected to it." 

The doctor grinned. "Like _anyone_ would ever guess we had anything to do with it." The middle-aged man stood silent for a moment. The doctor's grin faded. "I mean, no one would ever suspect that the biggest manufacturer of medicine and pharmaceuticals, the same manufacturer that's helped so many, would ever be involved in such-"

"Yet," the middle-aged man interrupted as he walked toward the main screen, "it _is_ involved in such a thing. We have to be very careful. Just because its _unlikely_ that anyone would ever suspect us, doesn't mean it couldn't happen." The man touched the image of a green logo on one of the smaller screen. Three boxes made an "L" shape with the letters "A", "F", "D" each written in a box. "After all, Amalgamated Fluordynamics has come a long way to get where it is. We can't afford to mess things up." The doctor remained silent. _If this test was any indication, better days would coming sooner than "the suits" thought…_

"Oh and doctor, can I ask you something?" The middle-aged man said turning to the doctor. The doctor's red face looked up and nodded.

"Is there any warm coffee left?"

"None at all, Mr. Cutter," the doctor jadedly replied. Cutter sighed. _Hopefully those better days will have hot coffee._


End file.
